And NO, I’m not really talking about the monetary costs. That’s a whole different subject.
I saw this post on Facebook the other day and it really got me thinking on how I wanted his teenage years to go. How I pictured it and how it happened are completely different.
And the more I think about it…
The madder I become.
His addiction robbed me of being the parent that I wanted to be.
I always wanted my home to be the safe place that all his friends would come and hang out.
And it was…
Until the drugs entered his life.
Because of drugs,
There was no prom,
No college visits,
No high school graduation.
I see all my friends–all his friends--hitting milestones in their lives.
And it’s so sad.
Instead, I had to become a spy, at everything.
And I became damn good at it.
I learned to look up public arrest records of all his friends and their parents.
I put spyware on his computer and phone.
I buy drug tests by the case.
A GPS tracker on the car.
I learned all the drug lingo that I really wish I never knew.
So trying to “find joy in the story I am living” is
There is no joy in watching your son slowly slip away and become an empty shell.
And the more I reach, the farther he falls.
Being the mom of an addict is not anything I would wish on my worst enemy.
Not only does the addict become an empty void~
The whole family enters a big black hole.